


I wish you could have met him

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 08:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15481566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: Two people speak to two other people about two people.OrAfter the barricade, conversations are had about those that are gone. Have tissues ready





	I wish you could have met him

Les Miserables Canon era, feels ahoy! (TW: implied character death, as it is post-barricade)|

* * *

I wish you could have met him.  
  
He was incredible. As warm as the sun, and yet, never one to burn you with his temper.   
 _He is magnificent. As shy as the moon behind clouds, and yet, so delightfully opinionated once you get to know him.  
_  
He loved to dance, to sing, to argue. Life. That was what he was best at. Thriving, encouraging, improving lives. Anything he could do to summon a smile, or better yet, laughter, f _r_ om someone else.  
 _He loves. That is what he is best at. Loves, with his whole heart, and his whole mind, summoning every inch of willpower in his being to try to be worthy of that love._  
  
Our friends called him the Center, the glue that held us all together. The cause he took up, he carried within his heart, within his smile, and even within his jokes. For one with such a grim destiny ahead, he never once wavered in his hope for the future.  
 _Our friends call him… well. You’ve heard what they all say. He is not quite glue, nor our guide, but he is ours, all the same. Our lovelorn fool and dear companion. Until the very end, when we were no longer his, and he was no longer ours. He had a different destiny to fill._  
  
There is nothing left of him. No forwarding address,no relations, no mementos I may keep, beyond that coat. Tattered, destroyed, and yet, still his. You ask why I cannot part with it? It is the only proof I had he once lived.  
 _There is something of you in him. A certain forwardness, a soft smile so clearly related to your own, in his eyes, a memento of your own. Your own face is so much more worn than his, exhausted, aged. And yet… You ask why I cannot leave you alone? You are the only proof I have that my memories are true._

By caring for me when I had no one else, he gave me hope, and a new life.   
 _By your courage, and legacy, as well as your blood, you gave him life._

Paris is not the same without him. Even if so few in the end will ever remember him, I feel as if there is less joy, less laughter, in every corner of this ancient city and every night under the stars. I hope someone else misses him too. Is that strange?  
 _Heaven is not the same without him. Even with so many of our friends here, there is less warmth, less of his soft chuckle, and his warm words, in every conversation, and every day.  I hope he arrives not too soon, but not too long from now. Is that strange?_

I cannot forget him, not as long as I live.  
 _I will never forget him, not in an eternity._  
  
I loved him. I only wish I had told him that, before it was too late.  
 _I love him. I only wish he had known that, before it was too late._

Marius said, to Cosette.  
 _Courfeyrac said, to Georges Pontmercy_


End file.
